Growing Hope - The Gratefulness Thread

...That’s grill as in bbq,

Who in here doesn’t like BBQ?

On the subject of BBQ I was thinking recently that the type of meat you like – says a lot about what you like in bed.
 You like it pulled
 Dark meat?
 Breast?
 Thigh?
 A little Dry rub?

So on the topic of sex, did you know that only 30% of women climax during sex?

Statistically speaking 70% of the men aren’t keeping up their end of the bargain. That is the heart of inequity. Worse than the gender pay gap, is the gender orgasm gap! Orgasm - the other me too movement. Me too. me too.

But it’s not just sex. Relationships are hard. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother, then my feelings happen, that are intense I drive me to date. I mean nobody governed soley by reason would date, not to mention on an app…

OMG I just had the worst week of online dating.

I was offered 4 million to violate my ethics. It’s like that movie indecent proposal where Robert Redford offers woody Harrelson millions to sleep with Demi Moore. Only he didn’t look like Robert Redford, and I’m pretty sure to get the cash I would have had to give my ss# and my bank information. That way he could transfer it from a Nigerian prince. But even a bad week of online dating wasn’t as bad as sex with my ex.
- The sex was so bad that the last time, the bed caught on fire.
- Not because the two of us were so hot,
- but a lamp decided to throw us shade,
- the lamp figured out we’d lost the flame in our marriage
- and it sent sparks flying.
- We beat out the fire. Which was better than beating off my ex.
- But that is a whole other story.

I went to a parent meeting for the team my daughter plays on. One of the moms excused herself to go talk to her husband. I said “that’s sounds so nice.” And she looked at me like I was odd. That’s when I felt it. That slow sadness.

On the drive home alone after the brunch,
the tears came. They keep coming. I’d say - it was not a good day.

Days like that are hard. To attend event after event and be reminded that I’m sentenced to live alone - Trapped by an error made during the birthing process. Cognitively I know it wasn’t intended to be what I experienced, but that doesn’t help.

I want that man who got too close and abused his power because he didn’t understand the concept of physical and emotional boundaries and violation of personal sanctity. I was too attracted to him to stay well after the violation. I bet he’s never made the same mistake with another patient and I bet he would never let that happen under his watch again...

The older I get the more intense the sadness, because I’m starting to see the impossibility of my love being a reality. It’s a loss of hope for my love.

I understand it’s impossible the way the world is today. My hope for love being reciprocated is not normal. But I don’t really know what else to do.

I have this fantasy that I’ll get to love him one day. But it feels like it is an impossible dream today, and all the time alone makes me question why I’m waiting for him. Is it a choice? If it was a choice I’d have been free early on. Lord knows I’ve tried everything. This isn’t a choice…. I’m trapped. Accidentally or intentionally….

It’s my reality loving him and wanting him. I emotionally struggle when I give him up. I have five days left to release this sad love… Some days are a struggle… I need a nap and to regroup. Because I am not feeling right.

If I had my way - in the end, love would win. I feel so far from that vision now… I can barely type through my blurry tears.
Then I took a nap.

My pattern app explained that my attraction is like a mirror. Until I learn that I will only find happiness independently of the desire for someone to complete me… I won’t be happy.

It isn’t that I’m unhappy. I’m ok, but I get sad sometimes.

When I’m honest with why I hold the light for him, I want his reflection of my light. It’s like we are aligned on some other level, but to realize my love for him the world would have to change. I only want to be loved on my terms. I love myself and understand my issue and attraction to this dynamic. I’m grateful to have the opportunity to grow. I just hope he appreciates my love for his humanity. I hope he let’s go of feeling like a victim. I hope this love has made him feel his wounds and exposed his vulnerability for him to work on. I hope it helps heal his own patterns…. I hope it’s made him stronger and aware of his vulnerable parts.


Later that day, I spent time cooking and writing with one of my friends. She shared a story about how she felt about a movie star from the matrix growing up. We laughed and worked on material for this weekend. The food was delicious.

Life’s not bad. I’m grateful for friends and learning to find my happiness within unrequited love. I’m grateful for my ability to love with my whole heart.

Hugs!

I woke up this morning and felt a pull.

When that happens I wish I could talk with him. I wish I could not care about the fact that he posted an educational video… years ago I asked that if he didn’t love - he should post educational videos…. Rather than funny love songs…

I cried for about ten minutes this morning. Nothing to do with the educational video. I wish I had someone to love by my side other than Honey - my dog. Make that 15 minutes. I’d appreciate a partner so much. Make that 25 minutes.

I wondered if there is any twist of fate like what if I discovered I’m a billionaire?

Would the physician ever be able to love me if circumstances were altered? I don’t know how to change the world to enable my love to win…. But it is too depressing to live with this situation without hope.

If my resources were infinite could I buy up all of organized healthcare and the reimbursement systems that drive them? Could I commission conferences and white papers to direct the necessary changes? Could I correct the fee for service model to become a wellness model? And change the way everyone works to a three and a half day work week? Could I change the worlds understanding of the relationships that govern our work lives and improve health? Could the practice of medicine evolve and make an exception for my weird issue? Could I ever have enough money and power to make meaningful change?

What if the world unravels?

Is there any future where I can live in real life and appreciate him beyond my love and hopeful imagination?

September 2021

I have no idea what the next year will hold, but I’ve been 100% sober for almost a week. That first day sober when I got my first coin here, I felt activated. That man shared his story about desiring love… I listened. I know a similar story well from my own experience and point of view. I’m wise enough to hold tight and not engage, but my needs are a hot mess as of September 2021. I even had a dream that this man bound me, and I was overwhelmed at the thought. Then today in the meeting he was fidgeting with his knee, and I couldn’t help but feel needy.

I’m trying my hardest and have been fighting for sobriety and abstinence from tobacco since 2018 and losing an inch by and inch in a half of tongue to smoking, drinking, and dental trauma. But this isn’t the first time I’ve tried to quit. There was college and living down the shame of trauma and getting too drunk and exposing myself with a cover band on stage in front of the entire University School Student Government during one night of heavy drinking.

I must’ve thought I too could be like Lady Godiva. Only nobody learned anything from my story, except – nobody ever wants to talk about drunken events after the fact. Later I’d share my story to provide solace to a suicide survivor in a time of need. It’s a lesson about shame and the lengths people will go to avoid acknowledging it. And, that sometimes if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry.

Trying to escape my alcoholism and problem drinking took me to New England to “follow my heart”. Where I moved in with my daughter’s father – we had the kind of toxic relationship that we’d put tape down the center of the bed to deal with our space issues. We devolved into an externally imposed - isolation. No friends and few family were willing to tolerate us. If I could give one piece of unsolicited life advice: Never visit a boyfriend’s dad in the hospital (when you’re thinking of leaving). The Hospital followed the advanced directive and pulled the plug while I was in the room. We grief bonded over the experience of loss.

We spent our 20’s growing up as drinking buddies. The night a close contact got hospitalized for alcohol poisoning early in the marriage. I chose not to drink that night, so I figured I wasn’t an alcoholic. But on the weekends, I’d enjoy my own six-pack of booze, or a bottle of raspberry vodka or Bombay Sapphire and tonic when I stopped feeling okay on the cheep stuff. Being around me was miserable. I was a mess. I have never adhered to a schedule in all my years because I’ve been too hungover to keep a schedule beyond the basics of work and volunteer commitments.

I found out I was pregnant with my daughter the same day I was accepted into graduate school. I quit drinking that day, her dad’s 27th birthday.

I quit for the entire length of the pregnancy but tracked out the growth and development charts and I worry that my daughters’ neurologic and postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome are the result of too many margaritas on two occasions before I realized I was pregnant. I refrained from drinking during the pregnancy. Thankfully my daughter is well and the most gifted teenager I’ve ever met.

When I share my story, the odds aren’t in my favor for growing love. In my experience sharing openly and honestly about my lived experiences has been the best man repellant ever. It is like a display of red flags at the beach when sharing about mental illness while dating. That is why I focus on my strengths upfront. For instance, I love my friends, family, and community, I work full-time and have a fulfilling career. It’s my organ recital that is the repellent: I’m not only a person treated for pre-diabetes, treated for pre-cancer; I’m a person with alcoholism, and a person who’s been diagnosed with postpartum depression, postpartum delusional disorder, schizophrenia and eventually labeled with schizoaffective disorder due to falling off my medication and not sleeping for 7 days in the fall of 2017. I also experience fatty liver and hypertension.

It’s complicated, and you can understand why I struggled so much with step 1. There is so much going on, and I never drove after more than a drink or two over hours. The drinking was never the focal point, it was the afterthought, the thing I was doing to numb the pain when I got home and was alone.

I love myself and know that to be healthy as I can be, I must address the issue of alcoholism.

It is the dance of teaching people about my abilities, when I learn they aren’t ready to listen, it hurts, but I understand at this point in telling my story it isn’t about me and my story – It’s about the listener. Has their life prepared them to listen? If not, my story may prepare others to hear their next story with a mental health disclosure. I’ve been teaching people how I want them to respond for over 16 years. I believe if you can see a person’s strengths you can see their humanity. Like most people, I want to be loved and accepted for who I am with all my pre-‘s and isms. I know I’m complicated, but if you stay with me and let me shed light on my condition the reflection may be interesting. I remember as a teenager I prayed for an interesting life. God really delivered on that one in a big way for me.

But, there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t feel some self-pity, some wish I could erase my trauma the day my daughter was born and just remember joy.

In 2005 at the birth of my daughter I experienced trauma during orgasmic labor. A student doctor mishandled me during an exam. There were no protections for women in labor back in 2005, still aren’t today for either patients or providers. We sadly need some parameters and lists of rights when in the state of labor preparing for delivery.

When my daughter’s father refused to love me past that event at the birth of our daughter – glass of wine in hand – he turned to retreat into the basement. My trauma was too kinky for him, and he demanded, “Why can’t you just be normal?” When he refused to love me through the trauma, that was the moment our marriage died.

My whole life I have been doing the best I can. I try to be a loving mother, to raise my daughter to be strong and resilient. To care for the family pets (Buddy and Honey).

That day, when I showed up and happened to listen to that man’s 2-year talk about sobriety on September 4, 2021, it was what I needed to hear. It gave me a little bit of hope that there are other well-intentioned, available, individuals, seeking a similar pathway to wellness.

On that day, standing in my kitchen I decided I wasn’t gonna get my sobriety to zero use of tobacco and alcohol alone. I’d been trying since 2017 and to be honest, since 1999 when I had the incident with the university student government. And even though I was only drinking 2 drinks and taking drinking holidays so my labs would be “normal.” I knew what I was doing. I was on the slow path to self-harm.

Self-love is what I hope will keep bringing me back to meetings. I want to be healthy and well. I feel so much better already. I don’t feel hungover.

Today I saw the description of an old picture and my heart ached. I still want the physician. Today, when I thought about what I want – I want a hug and to have my bond acknowledged. I want to be held and to cry. I have zero expectation of that happening. But it’s my desire. I'm grateful to be sober. And grateful to feel a little better. But it is raw to be freshly sober. It feels like my bandaid was freshly removed and the air is hitting my soul for the first time in a while.

I'm grateful I love myself enough to do this for me. I'm tired of sadness. I want more humor, joy, and happiness in my life. And someday, I want to grow a relationship with someone who will reciprocate my love. I have so much to give.

I'm doing the 90 in 90.

My therapist in August thought I was doing well in my recovery, I'm stable but flawed. She said it was okay to take some time away from therapy, she scheduled our next appointment four months out. I felt positive about it and realized that I was ready to address some pieces of my recovery that I had yet to face. Like the drinking. Since my therapist isn't specialized in alcohol and tobacco recovery, I signed up for a therapy service and was matched with someone who is strong in that area. I'm grateful for the help in processing this. Unraveling my issues through the lens of tobacco and alcohol use, my honesty is sobering. Every time I share that I lost an inch by an inch and a half of my tongue to alcohol, tobacco, and dental trauma, I hear myself accepting the truth about my next step in recovery.

I was listening to music and I wanted to share a few songs on my playlist. Step 1 is so hard.
Every word
- love this song, and felt connected to it
Faded
- been on my playlist for years
Riding solo
- This resonates
1,2 step
- Playing with the steps
I try
- this song resonates - except for the ending of the video
So sick of love songs
- I'm tired of being sad and lonely
Let it Burn
- I should really stay debonded and sober
Honey
- because I love MC and it's my dog's name. I thought the video was funny.

Grateful this morning to have time with my dad to talk and process my experiences. We talked about our spiritual beliefs. Mine are complicated because I approached my higher power during the sacred time…. During meditation where the lotus opened and I saw the bright light with the tree of life, sacred geometry, and a mandala at the center.. I was spiritually unfit for the experience. I don’t blame the physician for my spiritual impurity. I wonder if I’d been pure if my experience would have been different? Would I have eighteen children?

I still believe there is a need for protections for women in labor. That exam violated my sanctity, and I wasn’t spiritually fit to endure it.

I needed my experience to grow spiritually. Sure, it was heart breaking to experience all that pain and suffering of losing my mental health, losing my marriage, and drinking and smoking to dull the pain… and I don’t always succeed in lifting my energy from the base of self pity and longing. But, I’m forgiving him and praying for his wife that she isn’t bitter towards me. I pray for forgiveness.

I recently did some work with a new therapist to process an impact statement. She thought I did well explaining my story. It was helpful to think about all the aspects of my experience and write a narrative to address the questions she asked of me.
1. Why did I think my trauma happened to me?
2. How has this changed me in terms of the trust, power/control, intimacy, and a few other interpersonal views about myself and others and how I relate?

Message me if you want to hear more about it. I'm happy to share more.
The key categories I cover include:
1. religious stigmata
2. political interference
3. medical error
4. technological interference
5. mental illness predisposition
6. multiverse (mulitiple dimensions)
7. soul growth

For the second part I'm still working on my growth.

Draft 1

I feel grateful to have been given the gift to overcome this epic struggle. My resulting growth was worth the pain and suffering. I sincerely apologize for my inability to regulate in the face of my being drunk with desire. It was beyond my control. I imagine your silence is due to fear. I don’t blame you for my perception of the trauma. I hope you will accept my sincere gratitude for the opportunity to learn about myself, love, and find personal growth.

I’ve thought about this for years. How I’d feel if I tried to make amends to you. Often, I feel a range of big emotions and feelings when I imagine being near you. It usually depends on other setting events how I regulate my-self at first thought of an encounter. But one thing rarely waivers… my love. And my wanting the best for you and your family. I don’t know why it took me so long to lift from basic desire to a higher love. I don’t hold you to blame for the error of that exam. I forgive you, and I hope you can accept my forgiveness and my apology. I wasn’t spiritually fit to be tested like that. That part wasn’t your doing. I doubt you would ever repeat the exam like that again. There is a need for awareness that this type of thing happens. I’m sorry for your having to experience the wrath of my drunk curser prompting my writing to you over the years. I wanted to feel love so desperately I still feel the tears at the edge of my vision. You are loved. I release you and the pain of feeling rejected.


Draft 2

This is my second attempt at a letter to make amends for all that I’ve done that may have harmed you and your family. Starting with myspace, I’m sorry for creating an account to message you. Then when you changed the password, I posted on the internet asking if others had been harmed the way I had. Then your lawyer wrote to tell me to remove the post or it would be actionable because I had mental illness. I went to a lawyer who disagreed, but it would have been a legal battle I wasn’t able to fight. I was so sick.

You must have told your work your version of events. Another doctor spread that version of the story to the Coalition and my boss had to escalate the story to the CEO at the company I worked for. I told my work my experience. My work supported me.

To cope I needed to talk about my experience, I talked to classmates. I talked to anyone who would listen. I talked to people I volunteered with in my many professional associations. I wrote a book about it although I didn’t name you. I promoted the book which shares what happened from my point of view. I blogged about it on although I didn’t name you. I needed a way to process what happened. I realize this must have been painful for you and your family. Who do you have to talk with and process this trauma? I was so hurt by this, how did it impact you? How did my story harm you? I have no idea, but I can guess.

It probably limited your future, it probably harmed your career, and hurt your reputation for those who knew about it. Politically, I’ve written all my elected officials about it, although I never named you. I wrote a complaint about the medical education system that was ignored by the New Hampshire board of medicine because the statute of limitations is 5 years, it took me 15 years to report it.

I’ve written thousands of people about my story, sharing it with anyone who would entertain my memory of you at the most vulnerable moment of my life. I wasn’t prepared to encounter my higher power in meditation during birth like that. I was spiritually unfit for my experience and blamed you wholly for my experience. Looking back, your action would have been powerless if I hadn’t held desire. But, for years I’ve struggled. I couldn’t make sense of the exam. I still haven’t made sense of it, other than to recognize my role in the event. I don’t blame you for my amplification of the trauma.

I tweeted about it, although I didn’t name you. I wrote New Hampshire’s Governor Sununu about it, although I did not identify you other than that you are a “physician”. I’ve written the FBI, FOIA process and appeals about it, and I’ve written presidents about it. President Trump even wrote back.

While I probably don’t have the fortitude to refuse love for you, I realize that working so hard for so long with mental health clinicians, has ruined my ability to imagine a healthy partnership with you. I imagine you and you’re family will be relieved to hear this.

I want to only feel the highest form of love for you and your family to be the best you all can be. I am not going to waste the rest of my life wanting your touch. Don’t get me wrong, I love you so much. And the thought of your love has guided me through some really painful and hard stuff. That will never go away, but I can’t choose you as my future. I’ve worked too hard to grow from that version of myself.

I don’t think anyone can have 16.5 years of therapy to overcome something without experiencing an imprint. It turns out – therapy works. It hasn’t been an easy process, but I have learned to live this way. I’m sorry it took so long for me to get to this point. I’m grateful for the opportunity to learn and grow through this painful emotional journey. I hope to live my amends by not needing to connect or write to you in the future. I’m not fully grown, but I’m growing in that direction. I wish you love and healing in all you do, and health and wellness as a family.

***

This isn't the first time I've tried to write this letter over the years, and it probably will make additional attempts to get it right. But, it's not about perfection, it's about progress. I pray for the strength to continue to grow. I pray for help from my higher power to develop in my ability to heal and for the light of healing to remove my spiritual defects, especially those encountered when in meditation.

I'm so grateful for the support of my family especially my sister and dad who are doing their own inner work to grow and heal their own unique issues.

I'm also grateful to have found the spiritual pliers - the twelve steps provides to extract the pain of my role in my trauma. Trauma was created and amplified by my defects.

Today was rough. I had to write for thirty minutes this morning before I could focus to work.

Last night felt bad. Like a moth to the flame, I experienced the heat of my trauma. I looked at the physician’s Instagram TV. I only made it one click, when I felt toxic aversion and self-censure. I dysregulated when the tsunami of self-censure filled me with fear, aversion, pain, feeling “bad”, grief, and sadness. It swooped in along with the strange mix of desire, longing for peace and normalcy, and love for myself, for the physician and all the people who are in connection to this story. That’s when twitter shared the latest viral video of an infant singing thunderstruck. It felt ironic that at that moment that song came to my inbox.

It isn’t my fault that I need to dig in and explore. I need to be able to fold this broken bit back into myself. I’m terrified that I’ll be demonized, blocked, or worse for exploring. I feel so complicated about this. Healing isn’t simple. I feel like I need to dig till I get it and so it stops hurting, then I can fold back the broken bits into me.

Upon making that click, it all happened fast, I made it about 3 seconds frozen until I had to escape that window out of fear. Then I devolved into dysregulation (to put it politely). I sobbed and prayed and eventually lay in my sacred space I’d called earlier to deal with an issue I’m having in meditation with an unwelcome and new force in my meditative space that is giving me anxiety. I lay heaped on the floor in tears. Till the dog whimpered for my attention. I eventually regulated petting her soft fur. All in all, it took hours to process.

A friend recommended a Shaman to work with on the issue I’m having with meditation. I messaged my therapist. I think I’m at the edge of her experience and knowledge base. She is doing her best to be helpful, but this isn’t totally traditional, to be honest. I’m not sure what else to do…